Well, as far as the work goes, I cannot offer much of a shining light this week. Before I got sick Saturday, my companion was sick all week. She has vertigo. She's on mediction now that is helping, but she's still not doing well. And as I told you a little last week, her attitude has been very off. Our relationship is A LOT better right now, I think because we had a full week to do nothing but talk to each other and study being as we literally did not work. This week was the hardest, worst week of my mission. Why? Because I didnt work. I'm having to learn real patience. With myself, with my companion, with our sickness. I know without doubt that the Devil is working very hard against us. My blessing says that he will put boulders in my righteous pathway to prevent me from accomplishing the divine design of which I was assigned to complete. With no doubt, he is desperate to keep me from working. I want so badly to be 100 percent, for my companion to be 100 percent. I only want to work and help my investigators. I have honestly just felt a pit of blackness in my stomach this week because I feel completey helpless. I don't feel sorry for myself.... I'm mad with myself for eating or drinking whatever it was that has done this. Nothing can stop this work from rolling forward but my companion and I were put in charge of tending this part of the garden and our best efforts are not good enough and I feel it falling apart here.
Bur, there is ABSOLUTELY no other work on the face of the earth that compares to the valor of missionary work. It is the work of the Gospel. It is what creates and brings together and seals family ties. And I only have 11 more months to be a full time missionary before I get thrown back again into normal life. So, I'll get over this sickness and I'll work as much and as hard as I can to make up for lost time in the hospital!
Life was never meant to be easy.
I wrote a letter to Emi earlier this morning and I said something along the lines of-
My head hurts, my feet hurt, my stomach is killing me.... But then I remember the atonement.
When my head hurts I remember the thorns that dug into his.
When my feet hurt I remember the nails they drove into his
When my stomach hurts I remember the spear that pierced his.
There is no pain, no trouble, no calamity, no sorrow, no frustration, no sickness that he has not both felt and atoned for. It is only when we forget our Lord and our Savior that we truly begin to suffer. But just as you (mom and dad) said at the beginning of my mission.... He is with us. Not before, not after, but during and IN our trials and afflictions.
Love you guys!
Sister Wainwright
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